Echolocation
by Kreek
Summary: Rodney learns the hard way that Sheppard will stop at nothing to regain his trust.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **The characters of SG-Atlantis don't belong to me. This is a non-profit story, written for fun only.

**Beta: **Starsky's Strut, who I can always count on to make the story so much better than it would be without her input. However, since I always do a lot of editing and revising any remaining mistakes are mine.

**Rating: **A very high T

**Warnings: **Spoilers for season 3 and 'Circle in the Sand'. Contains angst, whump and some mild swearing._  
_**  
Characters: **Emphasis on Sheppard and McKay. Also Teyla, OC's and a goat.

**Genre: **Angst, Mystery, Gen.

**Status: **Work in Progress, but rest assured that I always finish a story once I've started it.

**Summary****:** Rodney learns the hard way that Sheppard will stop at nothing to regain his trust.

**Author's notes: **I wanted to do a sequel to 'Circle in the Sand' since I was never satisfied with the 'all is well' ending. After writing 'Obliterated', I felt confident enough with the characters to tackle this problem, so I started juggling ideas and do some research, which ended up in a pretty solid storyline and the first couple of chapters. I will probably post every few weeks or so, alternating with chapters I'm writing for a different fandom. I'm writing that story to escape the intensity of this one every once in a while. As always constructive criticism is welcome.

Enjoy.

* * *

_Stargate Atlantis_

"**Echolocation"  
**By Kreek©October09

**Chapter 1**

John slipped, his hand gripping sharp rock while rain pelted down on him. He regained his footing, heart pounding in his throat, and then peeked over the edge of the narrow ledge. Sheets of water fell down from clouds clinging to black vertical stone with sticky wet fingers. Standing halfway up a cliff face on a mere two feet of footing, he trailed the rain down into an abyss of himself against the moist wall, he looked up. _Can't even see the sky. _

Come to think of it, what was he doing here? He vaguely recalled a fight, a stab in the dark, and a lot of pain. Something hardened inside, froze at the memory of more than physical loss. His legs felt numb and he struggled to keep standing, clinging to the cliff face while trying to make sense of the emptiness inside. There had been stone steps leading away from this plateau, once. But those had long since disappeared. Now there was no up, no down, only the small ledge.

He shivered, pushing down nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. A numbness crept up from his legs, causing him to steadily lose his grip on the slippery surface. Trying to control a rising panic, memories surfaced between one heartbeat and the next.

A vision of a knife drenched in poison.

Another heartbeat. A shimmer in the air, a women materializing next to him, falling to her death as she missed the ledge. She'd raked him with the poisoned knife, so he was dying… Her scream merged with the sound of another memory. That of a gun ending his friend's life. He frowned. Something was wrong with this picture. He was pretty sure the friend was McKay, and he was alive.

An image burned itself on his retina. He was rolling over a sand packed floor, his hoarse voice fading when Sheppard plunged a knife into him- _Now wait just a damn minute here… _

He struggled, trying to make sense of a past that didn't belong to him. Anguish threatened to overwhelm him. These weren't his memories.

"_Sheppard."_

He strained to hear the voice calling his name, needing to verify that he wasn't going crazy. He was still John Sheppard, and these too damn real jumbled recollection of feelings belonged to someone else. He yelled in defiance, dredging up memories of his own to keep from losing his identity.

"_Colonel, are you there?"_

With a start he opened his eyes, breath catching in his throat at the sight of folding shapes draping from a canopy surrounding him: fabric, surrounding the four-poster bed he occupied. Confused, he lay still on the soft mattress, the rushing sound in his ears slowly diminishing until all he heard was the pounding of rain against the monastery's large bay windows.

Memories overlaid the dreamscapes lodged in his system. A few weeks ago Kolya had him fight McKay in that arena of his. Thing was, only after he'd plunged a knife into Rodney, did Kolya lift the illusion cloaking his friend. That Godforsaken battle, if you could call it that, still haunted his nights. Unbeknownst to John who had later been out cold in the back of a jumper, Rodney _had_ made it. McKay heard the gunshot that he must have thought ended John's life, and had transported himself on a ledge in a last ditch effort to escape Kolya's accomplish. It was Lorne who'd saved McKay that day.

Bad dreams were nothing new, but this nightmare was different– he vividly remembered standing on that ledge, even though he had never been there. In the dream he'd been McKay. The shocking part was that for a brief moment after waking up, he couldn't tell where Rodney's experiences ended and his began. _I must be reading too many damn reports. _He took a deep breath and pulled himself up, determined to let reality gain a foothold.

"_John!"_

Startled, he reached for the radio on the nightstand. The last thing he needed was for McKay to sense his guilt. So he hardened his voice and tapped the earpiece.

* * *

"You have got to be kidding me," Rodney exclaimed. Savannah had glided through the monastery's hallways, her regal posture, flowing robes and all, causing a chill to run up his spine. They had climbed God knew how many steps before they arrived at what she called a guest room."You can't seriously expect me to spend the night here."

Annoyance shadowed the head priestess's pale features. "Not many men grace us with their visit, Doctor McKay." She shot him a hawk-like look, her smoke blue eyes boring into him. Why did he suddenly feel hunted? "We always keep them secluded from the novices, for obvious reasons." She flicked back a dark strand of hair accentuating her pearly skin. He would have called her a Snow-White-beauty if this creepy monastery hadn't freaked him out.

"Yeah, but this… this is…" He stood in the doorway to a room three times smaller than Katie's hydroponics lab. A ragged tapestry drew his attention, its washed out color barely resembling a monstrous goat. His eyes drifted from the drawer cabinet, to the bed. On top of the bedside table, a single candle flickered in the wind, which drafted in from the window. Despite the fresh air, the space smelled damp and stuffy, like it hadn't been used in years.

"Are they not to your liking? I know we are a simple people but we try to convenience our guests as much as possible."

"Yeah, but there's simple, and then there's your typical medieval creepy tower." His tongue betrayed his uneasiness."Does that window even close?"

Savannah stepped onto the tiled floor of the room and turned. "There is no need to keep the refreshing winds outside."

Rodney put his foot down. "Excuse me, lady. Correct me if I'm wrong, but at this ceremonial welcome diner we had, you mentioned torrential rains!"

She narrowed her eyes. "Your lack of reverence is unsettling, Doctor McKay."

He harrumphed, refusing to feel intimidated. _Of course she's putting me in a solitary tower room. I bet you anything she got Colonel 'Kirk' Sheppard a luxurious suite complete with bubble bath and king-sized bed. No chance Teyla got the short end of the straw either. Savannah has treated her as an equal from the moment we set foot in this place._ Bristling, he followed his hostess inside.

When he was a kid, he dreaded his father's bed time stories. The man had reveled in changing the plot of every fairy tale. With him, princesses were never rescued, let alone by handsome princes. No. Girls like Cinderella were locked away in what Rodney imagined was a room exactly like this until they had died of old age. He sighed, supposing the open window would help to keep his claustrophobia at bay.

Savannah turned and headed out. "I will lock the door behind you, Doctor."

"What?" He stuttered, not sure if he heard it right. Cinderella and the whole works of evil stepsisters passed his inner mind's eye.

She cocked her head. "Please do not feel anxious by this. It is for your own protection. The monastery does have its enemies." She threw him a disarming smile. "We would not want you to get hurt now would we?"

Before he could demand to know what she meant by that, she closed the door with a bang, the lock falling into place with a definite click. He swallowed and turned, staring at dancing shadows projected by candlelight on brickwork thick enough to keep people out. _Or in. _

He sucked in a breath of stale air.

_Come on, McKay. You've faced the Wraith. This is nothing compared to having the walking dead suck the life out of you. _

_Nothing. _

_Nope. _

_A walk in the park is what this is. _

Two steps and he was at the window where darkness pressed in from the outside. The night didn't reveal much except for a sparse of green at the base of the tower where the lawn would be. The walls were sleek and straight down. Only Spiderman could traverse this structure.

He rubbed his face, clearing his skin of clammy sweat. _It's just a room for crying out loud. You've had a dozen sleeping accommodations on numerous alien planets. This one is no different. And if Savannah thinks she can rattle my chain, she's got another thing coming. _Forcing himself to calm down, he tapped his earpiece. "Sheppard."

When he got no answer he tried again, fully aware that John had gone to sleep hours ago while Rodney had still been ticking away on his laptop. "Colonel, are you there?" He debated cutting the man some slack, but resentment pushed him to try one more time. "John!"

He heard what sounded like someone grabbing the earpiece on the other end. _"What is it, McKay." _Sheppard's tired voice confirmed his suspicion that the man had been asleep.

"Tell me they've put you in a room barely bigger than the inside of a jumper with free air conditioning?" He shivered against a cold draft whipping past his skin.

"_What the hell are you talking about?"_

_Oh, har har. Just as I thought. _"Let me guess. Four poster bed, luscious drapes, thick carpets?"

"_Rodney_." the bite in John's voice braced him for what was coming._ "Tell me you woke me up to discuss something other than the local room decoration!"_

Fear dissipated in the wake of the cold shower Sheppard threw at him. He was certain now that Savannah had put him in here because of his 'lack of reverence'. _That… Finch! _He gritted his teeth. _Fine. Whatever. I'm not going to complain about the accommodation like a good little guest. _"Never mind, Colonel," he sighed. "Good night."

There was no answer on the other end. Sheppard was probably already asleep.

* * *

**Tbc**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's notes: **__thank you for reading and reviewing. I'm glad you like it so far. Now… on with it…_

_

* * *

_**Chapter 2**

John hadn't missed the tension in McKay's voice as the man signed off. He pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting the pull of sleep. He had enough trouble getting through this mission without a feisty yet beautiful alien priestess stirring the pot. After changing the frequency so Rodney couldn't hear him, he hit his earpiece. "Teyla?"

"_Yes, Colonel, what is it?"_

Her calm voice took some of the strain of his mind. Knowing Teyla, she had probably been meditating. "You got good accommodations?"

It sounded as if she shifted position before answering. "They put me in the novices wing. The room is small but comfortable." She took a couple of deep breath's between words.

_Yep, definitely been meditating._

"Why? Is there something wrong with yours?"

"McKay's." His lip curled involuntarily. "You think the Caprians are a vengeful people?"

A smile crept in her voice. "_Perhaps Rodney should not have made his view on their beliefs so clear. The capras are sacred to these people."_

John cringed inwardly. McKay just had to insult the entire congregation at the welcome diner by mentioning his father used to hunt Capra-like animals for sport.

"_Theirs is a religion-based society, John. The townspeople pay their daily respect to the monastery by providing food and other necessities. In turn, the head priestess takes care of their physical and spiritual well being. She uses herbs and knowledge of old to heal the sick and wounded."_

John mulled it over.

"_Perhaps her knowledge stems from books or scrolls the Ancients left behind. We know from the database that__ they often visited this place." _

"Or she carries the gene and has healing powers."

"_Yes, that might explain her… popularity." _

It would also up her threat level. Not that she'd done anything to warrant his suspicion, except for rattling his science officer, which could be easily chalked up to Rodney's lousy disposition. "What about the Capras?"

"_Not much is known about them. The stories depicted on the tapestries are a myth, if anything else. The goat's milk is very well liked though, even among my people. It is supposed to improve your libido. _

John smirked, she hadn't mentioned that in the debriefing. He rubbed the tiredness from his face, knowing damn well that Elizabeth had forced him on this 'easy' mission for a reason other than a simple milk trade. Same reason Ronon had bailed out to go on a tracking job with Lorne.

'Strained team dynamics', she called it.

_My bad_, is how he saw it. Trouble was he didn't have a clue how what to do about the widening chasm between him and Rodney. Deciding he'd deal with it in the morning, he drifted back to sleep. But the nightmares wouldn't leave him alone. Guilt grew until it formed a hard core in his chest, until all he knew he had to hurry. He was out of bed, dressed and running before he had fully woken up.

**

* * *

**

Rodney jerked upright, gasping while the real world reasserted itself. He gaped at the open window, at the rain pounding into the wooden floorboards, waking up only when a gush of moist wind hit his skin. Sore backbone muscles tightened and he groaned. Outside, bolts of lightning lid up the night. Lashes of rain hammered down on the roof, the deafening noise only topped by the crack of thunder.

A dream.

That's what it was, another variation on the –being eating alive in a row boat by a whale- theme that usually haunted his nights. Pressing his palms into his eyes, he fought to regain his self control. Forgetting about the arena -in which Kolya had cleverly pitted him and John against each other- had been hard but manageable. He'd forgiven his friend, because Sheppard hadn't known who he was fighting, but the nightmares had stayed.

_Come on, McKay. Get a grip. That was weeks ago, move on!_

He startled as lightning crackled, thunder clapped and he saw a shadow moving near the window. He stared at the windswept opening, unsure if he'd seen it right. _No, no, no. You're imagining things. That window is unreachable. Unless you can climb walls, or you're a native flying monster, in which case Savannah put me in here to feed you- _He jumped when a high pitched scream raked the air. _What the hell was that!_

A _BANG_, and the door rocked on it's hinges followed by another scream that made his blood run cold. He froze, looking from the door toward the window and back again.

If Savannah had set this up to terrify him, she was succeeding spectacularly.

Willing his muscles to work, he reached out and cursed when he knocked the radio off the bedside table so fumbled for his gun instead. Training his weapon at the door with shaking hands, he waited until a flash of lightning showed a man-shaped shadow only inches from his bed. He gasped, and fired, the sound of the gun's repulse drowned out by the thunderclap.

A sharp blade gleamed in the next lightning strike, triggering both the god-awful realization that he'd missed as well as a jerk out of the way that had him falling out of bed. His gun skidded from his hand as he impacted hard with the stone-cold floor. The whole scene reminding him far too vividly of when John had pounced on him in Kolya's arena. He didn't stand a chance then, he was pretty sure the odds weren't much better now.

Dazed, he looked up in time to see the human-shaped shadow lean in, intention all to clear as a knife was lifted with ruthless precision. Recalling the pain, and the sickening twist of metal turning in his stomach, he panicked. Oh God, he couldn't go through that again. Feeling like a deer caught in headlights, he desperately hit his attacker with flailing hands and feet, but cried out when pain lanced through his thigh, crippling him into submission. Darkness intensified as he lay breathing heavily on the floor.

A loud scream penetrated his senses. Then the door slammed open and light coming from torches set in brackets streamed in. His eyes widened at the grotesque shadow silhouetted against the wall. Whatever it was, it had horns, massive horns. He wasn't the only terrified occupant of the room though. His attacker, mid killing-blow, dropped the knife in shock, and scrambled for the window.

A goat-like creature, the beast's size and power doing nothing to diminish his fright stormed forward, head down. With a scream that clattered Rodney's teeth, it drove the assailant straight out the window. When no cries of someone plummeting to death reached his ears, he swallowed and stared at the goat. It stood huffing, then slowly turned on him. Easily 260 pounds, with a stocky brown body and curved horns that could do a lot of damage, the word goat didn't do it justice. Some nightmares just wouldn't go away.

Rodney was too terrified to care. "What… What do you want-" The room spun as he pushed himself upright.

The animal, resembling the washed out monster on the tapestry, lifted its hoof and planted it down with force, the vibrations through the floor causing his vision to clear, grounding him in the here and now.

"Look, I've had a seriously bad day here-" His voice trailed off when the goat lowered its head in an aggressive stance and then moved in on him. He focused on talking. "First, this priestess of yours really could do with some hosting skills. I mean uh… I assume she's yours, since they worship goats, and here you are. Except you're really, really huge, resembling more of a mountain goat than anything else."

The beast halted its rampage and seemed to listen to his diatribe.

"Then there's the dreams, which have nothing to do with you I suppose, and then… there's…" The goat loomed close now, watching him with its horizontally slit eye, cocking its head. The dog-like gesture was so unexpected that he faltered in his speech. "There's this … assassin… guy… who…" He fell quiet. "There's also Sheppard, who I wished to God wasn't accommodated a room all the way over across the courtyard. I mean, even with all your screaming, there's no way he could have heard-"

"Rodney, don't move."

Startled, he stared at John standing in the doorway, P-90 aimed at the massive goat. There was no way the man was real. You didn't need to be an astrophysicist to know that baring the odd wormhole or two, it took a certain amount of time to travel a certain amount of distance. Sheppard, fully geared up, simply should not be standing in that doorway. "How… how did you-"

"Not now, McKay."

The goat flicked an eye in John's direction.

"It noticed you," Rodney said in a thick voice.

"Yeah, I'm counting on that. With any luck, it'll turn on me and I can shoot it before…"

"Are you crazy?" Forgetting the pain he was in, Rodney felt his stomach clench in renewed panic. "It's a tank, Sheppard!" And have you seen the horns?" They were humongous, curling from the top of its head until the tips reached the fur on its back.

To his frustration the colonel merely lifted an eyebrow, tightening his aim when a shiver ran over the goat's coat. The animal shook its head with a snort, pulled its feet under him and went down. Seemingly lying comfortable, it started to ruminate on its food.

The look of surprise on John's face was so funny, Rodney would have laughed if he hadn't felt so miserable. "Huh," was all he could mutter.

* * *

Cautiously, John circumvented the goat, careful to keep the beast in his crosshair. " Are you all right?" He shifted focus when Rodney didn't answer, started to see the man's thigh drenched in dark blood. From his vantage point, he hadn't seen the damage.

McKay's stormy eyes matched the man's attitude. "Do I look all right to you!"

Relieved to hear the acid spilling off of Rodney's tongue, John squatted to survey the wound, certain the goat had done a number on his friend, but the knife lying on the floor derailed that thought. He looked up, catching adrenaline sparked eyes, not needing to voice his confusion.

"Assassin," Rodney heaved. "Goat, saved me… I suppose."

"Uh-huh." He lifted McKay's shirt, finding the black fabric heavy with blood and sticking to the raw cut in Rodney's flesh. He grimaced, took out the antiseptic, Tylenol and bandages from his vest's pockets and put pressure on the wound.

Rodney flinched, hissing words in an obvious effort to distract him from the pain. "How… how did you get here so fast?"

Pausing his administrations, John hesitated, the question catching him off guard.

McKay rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you were actually keeping watch!" The words sounded accusing more than anything else. "Or, no, let me guess, you were out searching for Savannah, right?"

He looked up, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden. "No, I-"

Rodney snorted, seemingly reading him like a book.

Trouble was, he couldn't tell McKay the truth, which was vague at best. That a sense of emergency had driven him halfway across the courtyard before he'd full well woken up. Hiding his confusion, he chalked the whole thing up to good military instinct and hardened his voice. "Keep still, will you." He gave Rodney the Tylenol and dressed the wound. "The cut's not too deep, I can fix you up temporarily-" His voice trailed off as he eyed the blade on the floor again.

"What… What is it?"

Worry clenched his stomach. The knife was too small to kill in a conventional way. It could be poisoned. Not wanting to feed into McKay's paranoia any more than necessary, he considered the options they had. "We should have Savannah take a look at you."

McKay wasn't fooled for a second. "Are you kidding me! Missus hostess from hell probably arranged to have me killed in the first place!"

_Good point. _He surveyed the room, McKay's earlier conversation with him over the radio suddenly didn't seem as immaterial anymore. The open window bothered him. The storm had lessened, but the wind still swept unencumbered between the stone walls, whipping at the tapestry above them. Beneath his hands, Rodney shivered. He glanced at the goat lying on the floor, a picture of peace resting calmly in the midst of mayhem, nothing reminding him of the vicious beast he'd faced when racing in here.

"That thing freaks me out," Rodney muttered. "Does it have to lay there?"

The goat released a breath, obviously not in a hurry to move.

Satisfied that it posed no danger, John turned back to Rodney. "Your wound needs more attention than I can give before you can travel back to the gate."

McKay's eyes widened. "So, let Teyla get Carson, or rig up a stretcher. You can haul me back to the gate for all I care, just don't let Savage Savannah perform tricks on me!"

John doubted that if the knife was poisoned, Rodney had that kind of time. "Look, I don't trust her either, but she's a healer, and she's been taking care of these people for decades."

"You don't see it, do you?"

Finished wrapping up the wound, John bit his lip. What he saw was fear in McKay's eyes coupled with a stubborn strength that kept him going despite the pain he was in. He doubted that was what Rodney meant though.

"Of course you don't." If McKay could have moved, he would have lifted his hands in a futile gesture. "She doesn't like us, Sheppard."

"Speak for yourself," he retorted, hoping the banter would take the sting out of this apparent conflict they were having.

"Us!"

No such luck.

"As in off worlders, Lantians, aliens! No matter the charm you throw at her, I doubt she will come around. I don't want her to touch me!"

Rodney's distaste wasn't unusual, but the underlying panic had too much bite not to be founded on true fears. It grated on his heart strings, because John knew Savannah wasn't the reason. Somewhere along the line, and he could pinpoint the spot, he'd lost Rodney's trust in him to make the right decision. He took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm calling this mission. First thing tomorrow, we're heading home."

"Why not now?"

Pulling back, he braced himself. "Because you're not well enough to travel. I need Savannah to stabilize you first."

Rodney clammed his lips together, his silence worrying John more than any comment would have done.

* * *

**Tbc**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's notes: **thank you so much for reading, reviewing and alerting. It's been a while since I've posted a chapter so I feel this one is long overdue. Kudos for my beta Strut, who is very patient with me. However, since I've edited this after her betawork, all remaining mistakes are mine. In this chapter I'm building up the story a bit more, so there's priestesses with their own agenda, a little angst for McKay, and a dream for Shep. (I'm slowly building up to the whump this time, guys.) And some humor in the end. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Nervous energy, that is what she got from the annoying one lying on the bed, vulnerable to her hands. Savannah suppressed a grim smile at the distrust in McKay's eyes as she applied the ointment covered bandages, his anxiety permeating the tower room with a tenacity that would have flung her off balance had his rude disposition not been counterbalanced by Sheppard. Leaning against the doorpost, he radiated a false calmness. McKay squinted at his leader. The tension between them hard to miss, their friction offering an opportunity she intended to exploit to the fullest.

Her personal acolyte Mosja stood back performing nursing duties while quietly observing the newcomers as per her instructions. Also, sitting on a bed next to the scientist, the warrior woman studied the Capra, her eyes showing only curiosity. Chancing a look in the Capra's direction, Savannah felt her heart thunder. If legends were true, she had to take care to adhere to the beast's demands.

An unforeseen complication.

Her eyes flicked back to the one called Teyla. With the warrior woman distracted, she shifted, blocking Sheppard's view as she started the healing process.

Her lips twisted with revulsion. Unlike Sheppard, McKay's energies felt tainted. So when the healing was done, she reached inside and opened the conduits a bit more.

The scientist's eyes widened, snapped onto hers in shock.

He was aware!_ But that was not possible_!

Panicking, she acted quickly. With a twist of her inner mind's eye, she sent him to sleep and then looked over her shoulder. "We cannot move him yet. He will rest now until morning."

Sheppard nodded.

Good, he had not noticed.

* * *

_Four shining wooden benches spread out like a mirage before him, reflecting the torchlight set in brackets along the passageway. Sliding sideways on the back bench, he bumped against Sheppard, the boat slamming against rock. "I told you we should have taken the other tunnel!" _

"_Not now, McKay!" John snapped. _

_Figured, Sheppard always got cranky when the steering got complicated. Rodney spared a glance over his shoulder and swallowed at the darkness just short of swallowing them. The tunnel was defined by the waterway that John navigated with a tight expression. Their little engine echoeing off slippery walls gradually faded into background noise as its sound got drowned out by the rumble of angry water closing in on them. "Come on, Come on."_

_The strong current swept the boat beyond Sheppard's control again. _

_Freezing liquid splashed over the sides. Rodney shivered, his feet a lump of ice, drenched in water devoid of all warmth. If only they found a side tunnel, an exit, something, anything to escape nature's wrath hunting them down. He tasted the metallic tang of iron rich drops, a wet film stuck to his skin, and the smell of fungus clogged his nostrils. Looking down to see John's hand clutching the engine's rudder, he swallowed. _

_They rounded a corner, darkness ahead. Lights detected their presence and turned on._

_He whipped around, watching a crest of foaming water speeding around the bend behind them. Roaring noise closed in, filled his ears and choked his ability to think straight. His heart pounded in the grip of panic. What had he been thinking, letting John guide him in here! They should have taken the other tunnel. There no escape, just the sinking realization that in a minute they would drown. He turned to his friend who watched him with a pain-filled expression that translated into one of those –it's our only chance- plans that were going to get them both killed._

_He shouted a no, anger rising at the Colonel's prerogative to play poker with his life. But John had already jerked the rudder sideways, turning the boat just as waves lifted them up. A concrete wall of water hit them with killing force. He flew through the air, vaguely aware of the presence of the boat right behind him. Hitting the icy liquid felt like landing on solid rock, the water so cold it froze his lungs. He fought to stay where he could breathe, and instinctively ducked when a shadow came down. Anger gave way to dread as time stretched. Within that split second, he realized Sheppard had hung onto the rudder long enough for the wooden barrage to fall clear of him but not John. All he could do was watch in horror __as the boat came down hard on top of his friend, the impact echoing through his soul._

_Then he was rushed by what felt like a thousand stampeding horses. Liquid filled his lungs. He couldn't breathe. He yelled inwardly, slammed into rock, bottom, ceiling, and was thrust forward as life drained out of him._

John gasped upright, taking lungs-full of air as he gaped, disoriented at the trails of sunlight streaming in between what looked like hastily put up wooden boards nailed over a window. He blinked, staring at the gray walls of the tower room and at Rodney lying asleep on the bed. Strong gusts of winds wheezing through the blinds gently touched his skin. He straightened in the chair. Despite someone having given him blankets, he felt cold, clammy with his own sweat. A nightmare… That's what it was, another variation on the –guilt trip- theme that usually accompanied the burden of command.

He rubbed his face in an effort to feel more alive and then leaned in to check on McKay. To his surprise the bandages were clean, the wound all but healed. Biting his lower lip in confused thought, he sat back. In the dream, he'd been McKay… again. What stuck to him most was Rodney's anger, or was that his own anger… He shook his head. The dream on the one hand feeling too real, yet too illusive for his peace of mind.

A dry wheeze tickled his throat and he coughed, took a deep breath and pulled himself together. At the sound of Teyla's familiar footsteps, he looked at the door, found it to be open and saw the goat lying flat out in front of it. He groaned, having half hoped the beast had gone by now. Rodney's stirred, so he sat back, feeling the need to create some space between them.

McKay was right, time to go home.

* * *

Rodney took another sip of the invigorating goat's milk that Savannah insisted he drank. The stuff tasted dreadful. Smacking his lips to get rid of the bitter taste, he felt his sinuses clog, coughed to get air inside and then squinted at the abundant candle lights placed all over the monastery's breakfast hall, wishing the asthma inducing smoking sticks to hell.

Though early in the morning, the novices had long since had their breakfast. Now, the massive table hosted an all muscle, leather clad man, and a sweet looking red haired girl in her twenties he seemed to remember was their last night. Sitting among them, the head priestess cast a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I trust you slept well, Doctor."

A shiver ran up his spine. She was doing much more than showing her care. He was sure of it. He opened his mouth to comment, but what could he say? Apart from his rising paranoia, he had no evidence that she'd done something other then heal him. If anything he felt more drained by the night's sleep, but in the end that could be just him tensed by the night's events. He nodded, wishing Sheppard and Teyla would hurry up.

His attention drifted back to his laptop, the letters blurring on the screen. Whatever was in the milk, it worked because drowsiness had set in. With a sigh he closed the lid and put the computer back in its protective cover.

The cute red-head looked up, her eyes a deep green. "The weariness is part of the healing process, Doctor. It will pass."

"You should not be traveling so soon." Savannah's compassionate smile did not reach her eyes. "Wouldn't you agree, Mosja?"

Rodney sucked at reading expressions but swore the girl called Mosja looked like she might disagree. "I believe he is not yet wise enough to see the wisdom in your advice, my Priestess."

Savannah nodded. "He is lucky Colonel Sheppard made the decision to let me heal him. He would not have survived the night otherwise."

He glared at the both of them, at what he was sure were insults thrown his way. "As much as I've enjoyed my stay, what with your local assassin tourist attraction and the barn yard animals and all, trust me, you do not want me to overstay my welcome."

Mosja shook her head, eying the leather clad man sitting at her elbow. "The monastery doesn't have many able bodied man to gather food from the mountains for us. If not you, than perhaps John is willing to stay to help out? We would give him a royal position among the priestesses."

Rodney nearly choked on the milk. "I'm sure he will be tempted," he spluttered.

Savannah narrowed her eyes. "Don't be too confident in your assessment of your team leader, doctor McKay. Serving the priestesses is an honorable occupation and comes with a great many benefits."

"He already has a job." And why was he even discussing John with them?

"We shall see," Savannah retorted, then pinned him with an icy expression. "Believe me when I say, we can be very persuasive."

He stared at her, recognizing a threat when he heard one. He opened his mouth to object when Sheppard and Teyla walked in and from one moment to the next she was all smiles again.

* * *

"Shoo, go, am scram."

"I believe it has no intention of leaving." Teyla's voice held a grin.

John glared at her, then turned back to the mountain goat. In the light of early dawn, it stood pontifically next to him, waiting for his next move. Standing in the middle of the cobble-stoned courtyard, he pointed at the opening in a low wall encompassing the monastery's grounds and addressed the goat. "There's the door."

A pair of chatting novices stopped to shoot him disapproving glances.

"Colonel," she spoke softly. "I suggest you treat the Capra with more reference."

"What? Do you want me to say please?"

She waved at the Caprians. "They seem to take offence."

He twisted his features in mock acknowledgement. "I know the Capras are sacred to these people," he kept his voice low. "But she asked us to get rid of it, so that's what I'm going to do."

"Do you not think it odd that Savannah ignored the goat last night and then this morning wants us to escort it safely off the grounds?

"Maybe she doesn't care for hoof prints all over her floor." He smiled, saw she didn't get the gist and sighed. "Look Teyla, she obviously doesn't want the goat inside. I don't blame her. Have you seen the horns?"

"You doubt this is the same beast as the one spoken of in their legends?"

"It's not showing any interest in them!" He waved at himself. "The only one it seems to follow around here, is me!"

"I am not sure, John. It did safe Rodney's life."

He stared at her. "I know that. Doesn't mean we're taking him home."

Teyla shot him a patient glance, making him feel like a little kid again.

He sighed, was about to order them back inside when the goat lifted its head. It straightened, staring -he had to admit somewhat majestically- at a wooden structure on the far end of the court yard. With a loud bleat pounding between walls and buildings, not to mention John's ears, it took off, trotting so gracefully away from them, it gave him the crazy impression it danced.

They both stood too dumbfounded to speak until John broke the silence. "Guess its interests just changed,"

A chorus of bleating greeted them from the stables, causing Teyla's eyes to twinkle. She smiled. "I believe it has found the nanny goats."

He grimaced. "So much for that myth of yours."

Teyla seemed to chose her words with care. "It may have charged because it saw Rodney's attacker as a threat to its harem."

"I didn't know goats were that territorial."

"Perhaps they are not, but Capras are."

He nodded, his lip curling upward. So Savannah just wanted to get the goat away from their precious female capras. Well, too late now. At least the beast was out of his hair.

A sudden chill stole through his body and he shivered, feeling heavy with fatigue. Last night's dream sure had done a number on him. Longing for a hot shower, he motioned for Teyla to follow and they headed back inside, assigning the urge to get to the breakfast hall as soon as possible to nothing but the lack of a good night's sleep.

* * *

TBC

**A/N: **I've put a picture of the goat that I'm basing a Capra on in my profile.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's note: A good friend told me recently that writing is part of a writer. So, after having stopped writing over the summer because of real life troubles, I sat down again and wrote. And it felt great! Thank you Monika, and Strut._

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 4**

Rodney focused on John. "You did what she asked?" Although the beast gave him the creeps, he had trouble channeling his animosity into his voice. _Must be the milk working as a sedative. _"Escort it off the grounds?"

Sheppard drew his face into an apologetic grimace. "It got pre-occupied."

"With what?" Rodney stared at him. "Another distress call? Not that I'm ungrateful or anything, but-"

"No need to insult the people who just saved your butt, McKay," John cut him off.

"I wasn't-" Seeing John's dislike of him from clear across the table, Rodney pressed his lips together in a thin line of defiance. "Okay, didn't answer my question."

"It um…" John shrugged. "It went for the stables."

"Oh no!"

Mosja, the pretty priestess with the nursing skills, startled the hell out of him. She was off and out the door before the echo of her shriek died down between the elaborate archways of the breakfast hall.

The leather-clad man sitting at the other end of the table smiled. "You'll have to excuse my daughter, Sheppard." Hard grey eyes beneath short white hair focused on John. "She sometimes takes her job as a capra herder too seriously."

_Huh, muscle man looks like he's capable of scaling a tower wall. _Rodney recalled Savannah talking about him last night as the monasteries provider of food. His burly features, and no nonsense attitude speaking volumes of his capacity as their house trained hunter.

"Now, now, Ravaan," Savannah soothed. "She is also my personal acolyte. Caring for the female Capras releases some of the strain from her job."

Watching the head priestess continue her conversation with Ravaan, Rodney caught John's attention. Drawing closer, Sheppard shook his head, seemingly having guessed his trail of thought.

"Are you sure?" he whispered.

"Look at him, Rodney," John hissed so Savannah wouldn't overhear. "Too big to fit through the window."

He harrumphed, unwilling to cross the hunter off his list yet.

"You're up to the trip back to the gate?"

If you forgot the drowsiness, Rodney felt remarkably fit considering the blow he just had to his system. Savannah must have done something right with that healing of hers. He didn't look forward to the three hours walk down to the valley where the gate was located, though. Dense forest had prevented them from taking a jumper, so they'd gone up to the monastery the old fashion way. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now, can we get out of here? As much as I've enjoyed the local cuisine and barnyard animals coming to the rescue, the day's ticking away."

"I am sad to say Doctor McKay is right." Savannah interrupted, making Rodney suspect she had overheard more than she was supposed to. "Now that Bona has returned, I must undertake the journey toward the temple at once."

"Bona?" Rodney snapped, wishing these people would speak in clear words for a change.

"John."

Rodney turned to watch Teyla study a wide tapestry occupying a niche between two scones at the far end of the table.

"Take a look at this."

"Bona's the Capra that saved your life last night," Ravaan supplied humorless, his icy stare giving Rodney the creeps.

On his way over to Teyla, Sheppard turned. "It has a name?"

_Of course it does. _Sarcasm fled in the wake of curiosity drawing him to whatever Teyla had found. He stood up to plant himself in front of his team mates. Frayed at the edges, the woven colored wool on heavy cloth had faded, the fabric smelling musky and as dated as his old aunt's table runners. He could still make out the goat though, standing on a rocky outcropping. Beneath the capra, two figures were locked in what looked like a fight. One of them, a priestess by the look of her robes, stood with a glowing scepter in hand. She fought a familiar figure crumbling to the ground. He sucked in a breath.

"Is that what I think it is?" John peered over his shoulder.

"Wraith," Teyla concluded. "Flinching from the weapon the priestess is holding."

"The scepter of light," Savannah interjected. "And now that Bona is here, I fear the time has come to seek it out once again."

Rodney stared at her. "You have got to be kidding me."

"McKay?" John gave him a bewildered look.

Rodney ignored him, focused on Savannah instead. "Don't tell me this is the same goat?" This tapestry's what? At least hundreds of years old?"

"It stems from times when the last of the evil spirits were defeated, Doctor," Savannah confirmed. "The male capra only shows up when the need for its protection arises."

"Wait, wait, wait," John halted the conversation. "You defeated the Wraith?"

Savannah crossed her arms. "With the scepter, yes."

Rodney studied the tapestry more carefully. The wraith had its hand raised against the light emanating from a rod which end curled around what looked like a clear crystal.

"It must be a powerful weapon," Teyla spoke thoughtfully. "I have not heard the Caprians speak of it before."

"This tapestry is only to be shown after the appearance of the male Capra," Savannah explained. She paused, hesitation in her voice. "I have not yet had to undertake the journey for the scepter in my lifetime. It is said to be a dangerous one. Many seasons have passed since Bona had to guide us to its location."

Ravaan spoke up. "I'm all that is left from the old fighting order trained to help her with this task."

Savannah drew an innocent face, sounding vulnerable. "We could use your help, John."

Rodney stared at her, Savannah's earlier words echoing in his head. _We can be very persuasive Doctor. _When it came to defeating the Wraith, any means were worth exploring but a quick tug at the corner of Savannah's mouth, told him this had to be a ruse. A plot to get John to stay. "You're not seriously considering going out there with an assassin breathing down my neck," he warned, throwing all rational thought out the window. "The trip to the gate is hazardous enough as it is. Traveling makes us vulnerable Sheppard."

"I know that," John retorted exasperated.

"Look at this thing." He pointed at the tapestry in an effort to talk some sense into the man. "It's ready to fall apart. This journey is based on a myth, John, nothing more. Any moron would know that you can't expect a goat to lead anyone anywhere, let alone to a weapon supposedly as destructive as this scepter."

"A Capra, Rodney. There's a difference." John looked thoughtful, then turned to Teyla.

"We could go back to Atlantis, return with men?" She offered.

"The scepter only works for those with clarity in their minds after having completed the journey," Savannah clarified. "No additional means but a small escort put together at the monastery of residence are allowed."

"Oh really," Rodney remarked, crossing his arms. His suspicion earning him an irate look from Sheppard again.

"I was very young when my mother told me about the scepter," Savannah went on. "She," her voice broke. "She died shortly after."

_Great, now she's throwing in a sad fact or two._

"You see, not only was Savannah the head priestess' daughter," Ravaan explained. "She was also her personal acolyte, thus needed to be prepared not only for the quest for the scepter, but also to take over from her mother should the need arise."

"The circumstances surrounding my initiation as head priestess were tearful," Savannah said. "I was too young when she passed away, the sudden tragedy befalling the priesthood made me aware of how vulnerable my people are, how much they depend on me. So, if I am to protect my people, I must do my duty." She sighed. "Our chances would improve if we had a warrior such as you accompanying us, John."

"You don't have more men trained for this possibility?" Sheppard asked.

"Rumor had it the wraith were asleep," Savannah added. "So Ravaan did not feel the need to train men." She lowered her head. "I don't know what woke them, all I know is the male Capra is here, so the demons will not be far behind."

Rodney stared at her, knowing she'd hit bulls eye the moment she mentioned the whole unfortunate waking up the Wraith thing. He turned to see John's face battled with indecision, stemming from guilt he felt for giving the Wraith that wake up call two years back. For all of Sheppard's laid back attitude, Rodney knew exactly what stuck to his friend the most. This wasn't going well. He almost admired Savannah's manipulation techniques.

"Any chance the route takes us passed the gate?" John tried.

Ravaan shook his head. "It takes us in the opposite direction, into the mountains."

_Why am I not surprised. _

"If you'll excuse us," Sheppard motioned for him and Teyla to follow him out of hearing range. They moved into an alcove, the nearby flares causing Rodney to sneeze hard.

John glowered at him. "Rodney, this weapon could solve a lot of problems," he spoke in a low voice.

"You think I don't know that?" He crossed his arms. "Look I'm all for jumping at the chance to get our hands on new technology, but that does not include chasing fairy tale objects on the off chance they magically safe the day, Colonel. We can't afford to waist the time."

"We can't afford not to," Sheppard retorted. "You heard them, they could use our help."

"Oh yes, the 'white-knight-in-shining-armor' stuff. Should have known you'd fall for that."

"We cannot leave them to fend for themselves," Teyla added to his smoldering anxiety. "Whether this scepter exists or not."

He pressed his lips together in a thin line of defiance. If it wasn't for Savannah's double agenda, he would have agreed with Sheppard. Thing was, he couldn't prove her hostile intentions, couldn't put a finger on the dread gripping him whenever she so much as looked in his direction.

John nodded. "Teyla has a point."

Rodney's face fell. "You can't be serious. Hello. Assassin breathing down my neck here."

"I know. That's why I want Teyla to escort you to the gate."

Teyla voiced both their surprise. "You want to do this alone?"

_No, no, no, no, no. Bad idea! _Rodney shot Savannah a death glare, then turned his disapproval on Sheppard.

"Look," John spoke low yet far too determined. "I don't like this any more than you do, but this scepter could prove really valuable to us. That and," he waved at Savannah, "we can't leave these people here to die."

"They managed pretty good so far, Sheppard," Rodney retorted. "I don't trust her."

"That's exactly why I have to do this alone."

Looking over John's shoulder, Rodney caught a look from Savannah, menace laced within the small satisfied smile she sent him. He blinked, took a deep breath and faced his friend. He didn't know how she had gotten Sheppard to comply so easily, but two could play that game. "I don't think so."

"It's not up for debate, McKay."

"You want to go, fine. Just to be clear, I don't have much faith in the outcome, the chances of getting through this alive border on insanity, but you're not shipping me off to home like a good little child."

"I thought you didn't want to go?" John hissed back, eyes hardening.

"Rodney, only last night you were near death," Teyla interceded gently.

He waved at Savannah. "She healed me. I'm fine." He hesitated, unwilling to voice his suspicion that she had done more than that.

John studied him. "You didn't answer my question."

He crossed his arms. "There's a reason away teams consist of four people. We're already down one. You're not going alone."

John shook his head. "Well, as much as I respect your input, this is not a democracy, McKay. It's my job to decide whether you're fit enough to-"

"Oh, yes, we all know about the trappings your job entails, Colonel," he couldn't help but sneer, mistrust escaping his tongue. "So you're telling me I'm a liability now?"

"I didn't say that!" He took a deep breath, looking tired all of a sudden.

_If you want something done, you do it yourself. _A conviction he felt had only grown stronger these last days. Maybe he _had_ lost faith in his friend. "I don't-," he started, stopped, and made one last try. "I need you to trust me on this, Sheppard."

John stared at him. Anger warring with vulnerability, eyes darkening before he turned away.

Teyla sighed and turned to Sheppard. "I agree with Rodney, Colonel."

"Oh you do, huh?"

"You should not go alone."

Shaking his head, Sheppard fixed him on the spot. "You better be damn sure about this."

Rodney could only nod, reading loud and clear that John needed him to return the trust he put in him. He lifted his chin. "I am, Colonel."

* * *

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: **__I know it took a while for me to post, and on top of that, this is a very short chapter. It's just that I'm juggling several stories at once in several fandoms and I have to go where my muse takes me. Keep in mind though that I always finish a story once I've started posting it. Also, I can't leave John and Rodney stranded in the middle of a story now can I? Thank you all for staying with me on this story. And thanks as always Strut for the betawork. Without her, my writing would come to a screeching hold._

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**Chapter 5**

John slipped, his boots loosening gravel and stone debris. He bit his lip and continued making his way up into the mountains. In his dream, he, McKay, however, had stood on a ledge not much wider than this path, unable even to take a deep breath before the plunge. He looked over his shoulder. "You all right?"

"What?" McKay breezed, clearly offended. "Why shouldn't I be?" He took the few steps to John. "Oh wait, maybe it's because there's a gorge the depth of an ocean on my right hand, a wall of mountain on my other, and I'm on what Savannah calls the easy road through hell. For your information, humans don't have hollowed hoofs to cling to stone." He motioned at Bona standing on a rocky outcropping ahead of them. The goat negotiated the traitorous slope with so much ease, it made them look clumsy and stupid.

John grimaced, figuring Rodney held up remarkably well considering the circumstances. He, on the other hand, felt like crap, as if he'd gone three rounds with Ronon, gone for a run afterwards and then had let Teyla beat his ass twice in training. And he was cold, shivering, all the more reason to continue walking. "You want to go back?"

McKay's eyes shot daggers. "We already had this conversation, Sheppard."

Nervousness raked Rodney's features, echoing with the anxiety that John couldn't rid himself of. Having hiked for most of the afternoon, they were pretty high up. Making sure McKay followed him, John continued walking. When they reached Savannah, Rodney redirected his irate behaviour toward her, the air clouding around his feet.

"So, what's next? More canyons? Snow? Water? Forests of the dead?"

Savannah frowned, disapproval clear in her features. She addressed Sheppard. "Caves, actually."

"Caves," John nodded. "Okay, shouldn't be too hard. You got your flashlight, McKay."

Accompanying Mosja, Teyla came walking up from behind them. "How long before we reach them?"

Ravaan brought up the rear. "Before nightfall," he said, scouting the terrain ahead. "Once inside we can eat and rest up a bit. The path through the mountain isn't dangerous, as long as we stick to it."

Sheppard didn't like the implication. "And if we don't?"

"Much of the cave system is unexplored. I would hate to see you get lost." Savannah eyed McKay.

Rodney harrumphed and crossed his arms. "We have radios you know."

The goat, still standing on the outcropping, eyed them with its horizontally slit eye as if telling them to hurry up. Dots of white clouds started to clog its footing.

Ravaan looked up. "Light is fading, we should move." He took the lead and headed out.

Mist drifted in from the valleys, sticking to the grey stone slopes with fierce tenacity. John motioned the others. "Go ahead, I'll cover your six." He needed the time alone, guarding their backs gave him something to focus on, so he watched their small group go, one by one disappearing into thickening strands of air before continuing on himself. He felt strange, a sense of vertigo creeping up on him the higher up their path became.

He whirled around, pointing his P90 at the sound of scattering stones. The mist was so thick now, he could hardly see three feet in front of him. A shape landed next to him. At the sight of Bona, John jerked his weapon out of harms way. "Jeez. A word of warning would have been nice." Lowering the P-90, John continued walking.

The beast released a breath. Reaching waist high, it kept its pace next to him, its curved horns a weapon that could have knocked him off the path with no effort whatsoever had the goat miscalculated his jump. John doubted the surefooted beast ever missed its aim, though. Bona snorted, as if saying, 'that's right'.

They climbed on steadily in silence, until John felt himself relax. The dreams had just been that… illusions in the night, right? Invigorated he kept going, refusing to believe the company of the goat had anything to do with the dissipating tiredness in his body.

**

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**

Huge shadows rose before him. Sucking what was left of daylight into the gaping hole looming over him. Rodney shivered. The caves' entrance bore a remarkable resemblance to the open mouth of a whale. A second before it swallowed him. Sharp rock surrounded the black tunnel, and in the beam of his flashlight, dead looking bushes appeared in between the hazy fog.

Over the years he'd learned to handle his recurring dream of being eaten by a marine mammal. The nightmare he'd had back in the tower wasn't so easily swayed though. The cold of the water, the row boat coming down hard on his friend- He hesitated following Ravaan and Teyla inside.

"Stay close now, Doctor McKay," Savannah sounded eerily close in the moist atmosphere. He turned to find her standing next to him. "The cave system is vast, I would not count on your friends to rescue you, should you get lost."

_That's not going to work, sister. _"Hello." He tapped his ear piece. "We have radi-o-s." Which reminded him of his scanner. Ignoring her glare, he took out the device and surveyed the rock. _Just your ordinary stone, no alien materials, nothing hampering transmission_. He looked up. _They should work fine_. "Yep, I'm good to go."

Savannah smiled. "A search can be hampered in more ways than failing technology alone, Doctor." She glanced at John coming up the slope towards them.

_What? What the hell's that suppose to mean? _He followed her gaze, a sick feeling of foreboding churning his stomach. She was up to something, maybe ditch him halfway through, make him lose his way, cause him to take a wrong tunnel where God knew what lay hidden. Maybe even the assassin.

He swallowed, when Bona came pounding up beside him. He thought the goat eyed her with as much suspicion as he did when Savannah disappeared into the cave.

"Come on, McKay, quit dawdling," John ordered, passing him by.

Rodney huffed, feeling more than a little vulnerable going in. "This is ridiculous. We should have had the trees cut down back at the gate to allow a jumper through in order to hop over these mountains in two seconds flat."

John turned. "If Savannah says we need to go through the caves to get the scepter, we go into the caves, McKay."

"She's planning something," he hissed, stepping up to his friend. "I don't trust her!" Bona's loud bleat made him jump out of his skin. He shot the goat an irate look, but it had already gone off after Savannah. Glaring after the beast, Rodney's attention came to rest on the gaping entrance. "It's the perfect place to get rid of me."

John, who had also been staring at the goat, suddenly paid attention. "Get rid of you?"

"Yes, you know, like in Lord of the Rings? Where Gollum ditched Frodo into the claws of that giant spider what's-her-name?"

John looked at him, then lifted a finger, making his point. "Frodo was alone."

"Well, yes," Rodney stammered, not having thought of that. "I suppose so."

"And if we're making comparisons, it was Frodo who ditched his friend first, before Gollum betrayed him, Rodney." He grimaced. "You're not planning on ditching me, are you?"

"What are you kidding me?" Thoughts raced through his head. Even now vivid images of Sheppard turning on him in that arena, in the dark, John's ruthless expression when the cold blade pierced Rodney's skin, his soul, and his trust, resurfaced with concerning clarity. In all honesty, he couldn't say that he didn't walk on egg shells at times. Savannah was a healer, which meant she could reach inside you, your body, maybe even your mind. Who knew what she could make Sheppard do?

John studied him when he didn't elaborate, an unspoken unease hanging thick between them. "You want to stand here all day?"

Rodney shook his head, lifted his chin, and went inside.

* * *

TBC


End file.
